“This is very kind of you,” said 13-year old Rome, his thoughtful words taking me by surprise. I glanced up to see his dark brown eyes looking kindly at me across the restaurant table.

            I was unaccustomed to such an open expression of gratitude from someone his age, and his words caught me off guard.

            “Well,” I said, “the Lord’s blessed me, and I’m glad to be able to bless you and your mom.” Just two weeks earlier he and his mother had arrived in a strange city far from their home, only to find that the housing they had arranged for in advance had fallen through. Newly homeless, they were spending time in a Christian shelter trying to make connections, access benefits, and find a place to live.

            While the shelter had provided food, a roof over their heads, and the company of six-legged lodgers that required an exterminator, they were limited in their ability to explore their new surroundings. Their meal options were limited as well.

            I had met this pair at the shelter when I arrived to help write and produce a video segment for my church, The Potter’s House of Denver. It seems that one woman in my congregation had the audacious idea to make quilts for the homeless from fabric that seemed of no further use to society.

            Other women joined in, and The Warmth of Jesus Ministry has been blanketing the homeless with local love ever since, having an impact on numerous lives. Not just the lives of the homeless, either. Lives like mine. Lives of the quilters. And lives of those who work to bless the homeless every day as their job.

            Some of us distance ourselves from the homeless, content to cocoon at home, believing the lie that we cannot relate, don’t know how to help, or shouldn’t get mixed up trying to solve problems that are bigger than we can handle.

            After witnessing Rome and his mother, along with his 9-month old nephew, receive their quilts in front of quilters, shelter clergy, and lay workers, I spoke with his mother.

            I said to this woman who searched for a home, acceptance, and relationship in a new town, “Well, we hope to see you at the church sometime.” She had no vehicle, and would have to make bus transfers or walk miles to get there.

            I was about to perform the equivalent of a religious “ring and run.” I had come, done what was expected of me, and now I would leave her in her situation.  I wondered how often I, maybe we in the Christian community, stop short of fulfilling what Jesus wants to do in a situation because we think we’ve done our part. How often do we depart before Jesus is ready to leave the building?

            “I’m going to see if I can find someone to give me a ride down to the church for services,” she said.

            “I can pick you up tomorrow,” I replied. She agreed. It was that simple.

            Their desire to see the city was satisfied by my conveniently becoming lost on the way to church. Our misguided drive was unexpectedly lengthened due to a detour prompted by a charity walk and a single-minded navigator app that kept wanting me to crash police barricades.

            We arrived late, and thankfully the Warmth of Jesus ministry leader, Mary Jane Barnes, had saved seats in the front for us. After the energetic service conducted by the youth pastor, young Rome startled me with his review of the service.

             ”I wish it had been longer,” he said. He was so impressed with the passionate pastor that he’s eager to return.

            During our unplanned scenic tour on the way to the church that sabbath, I had invited the trio to join me for lunch afterwards at a restaurant. I had guessed that the shelter food had been filling, but was a far cry from five-star cuisine.

            After he had gotten a good start on his burger, I asked Rome how he was enjoying the meal. The burger was good, he said, and the mac and cheese delicious. It was an improvement over the shelter food.

            “Even the catsup is better,” he said.

            Catsup.

            This kid even appreciated the condiments. 

            Jesus actually preached about condiments, you know. He spoke of believers being the salt of the earth and how much He could do with our miniscule faith the size of a mustard seed. He told of the importance of having ample oil and declined the vinegar he was offered. The Lord peppered his sermons with parables as He walked around being the very Bread of Life, providing meals for the temporarily displaced through a supernatural supply. He filled each of their stomachs and their spirits.

            I don’t recall Him ever mentioning catsup.

 Lynn Rebuck is a national award-winning columnist, speaker, and director of Lynn Rebuck Ministries. She encourages you to reach out to local shelters and find ways to connect to make a difference for children and families there. For more information on how you can support the Warmth of Jesus Ministry at The Potter’s House of Denver, email Lynn@LynnRebuck.com or visit tphd.org.  Lynn’s column appears weekly in print, online, and on Amazon Kindle Blogs. Read more blog posts on www.LynnRebuck.com. (c) 2012 Lynn Rebuck